I could feel the blood draining from my face. Next to me, Tibris stiffened, slowly shifting his weight as he glanced around. My brother was searching for a way out of the square. But the guards above us would spot anyone attempting to flee.
“The magic of luck,” the assessor announced. “Right here, where it shouldn’t be.”
Lina frowned. “I don’t— I’m not—”
“Silence!”
I closed my eyes. Luck was a passive power. The kind of power that Lina may not have even known she was using.
Her grandparents began to beg in high, desperate voices.
I opened my eyes just as both of their heads rolled to the ground.
The king’s guards had dispatched them in an instant. Behind me, someone gagged. To my left, a woman let out a high shriek. I stared, my mind unable to accept what I’d just seen.
Lina swayed on her feet. And then she began to scream.
The sound pierced the silence. And the crowd instantly responded.
Someone shoved into me from the right. Someone else hit my left side. Pure panic. A child went down to his knees, crying out for his mother, and Tibris hauled him up by the back of his shirt.
The king’s guards were moving toward Lina. She’d stopped screaming and was backing away from them, as far as she could move on the wooden platform.
Several chickens broke free of their cage at the side of the square and flapped across the guards’ feet. The guards tripped, falling to their knees.
The gift of luck.
The village butcher turned to run. The first arrow took him between the shoulders. The second and third hit him in the spine, and he dropped to the ground.
“Nobody move!” a guard roared above us.
The entire crowd seemed to freeze. All I could see were wide eyes and stunned faces. Bile climbed up my throat as I slid my gaze back to the platform.
The assessor turned and backhanded Lina across the face. She dropped to her knees, and he kicked her square in the back, gesturing for another guard. Striding up the steps, the guard hauled her to her feet, clamping heavy irons to her wrists.
Lina hung her head, clearly dazed. Her only family was dead, with no husband to fight for her. There was a reason the legal age of marriage was twenty-five winters.
The assessor turned to us. “The corrupt, who were either rejected by the gods or who prevent the gods from taking their power—who choose blasphemy instead of truth—will be made to burn for their sins. Our king is so committed to protecting his kingdom from the fae that he has recently announced a bounty.”
The priestess nodded. “One hundred gold coins to anyone who informs us of one of the traitors.”
A few foot-spans to our right, a woman sucked in a sharp breath. I couldn’t blame her. One hundred gold coins, and she’d never have to work again.
The assessor surveyed the crowd, his gaze burning with fervor as if he could seek out magic lingering where it shouldn’t be.
Surely he could hear the thud of my heart. Could smell the fear-sweat that clung to my skin. The world receded until his face was all I could see.
He stepped down into the crowd, which parted for him. He seemed to be walking directly toward me, as if he knew.
Tibris stepped between me and the assessor. He made the move look casual, as if he was excited to congratulate Abus. But I stumbled backward, tripped on the hem of my cloak, and slammed into a hard male chest.
Strong arms caught me. The man held me suspended for a long moment, and we both froze, watching the assessor.
But he’d already sauntered through the crowd, likely readying himself to travel to the next village.
I glanced up at the man, and my breath caught in my throat.
The sun sliced across his eyes, which glittered with annoyance. The rest of his face was hidden by a black woolen scarf, and he wore the hood up on his cloak, covering his hair. I couldn’t tell his age, if he was clean-shaven…anything about him.
But I knew him.
At least once a month, I dreamed of a man with green eyes. No, not just green. The word didn’t even begin to describe them. Those eyes were haunting. A dark yet vibrant green with flecks of silver that seemed to attract the light. In my dreams, the man looked back at me as if patiently waiting. Some days, the dreams left me anxious. Other days, I felt a deep contentment—almost…safe.
“Watch where you’re going,” he snarled, lifting me back onto my feet.
“Charming,” I muttered. “Well, thank you for—”
He’d already turned and walked away.
I stared after the cold, rude brute and shook myself out of my daze. Of course I didn’t know him. The events of this morning were rattling my mind. I turned to find Tibris watching the guards as they climbed down from the rooftops surrounding the village square.
“Pris? Are you okay?” Asinia squeezed my shoulder. Her eyes were dark, her face pale, lips bloodless.
I likely looked just as shaken. While it was always a possibility that one of the corrupt would be found, no one had expected to see what we’d seen today.
“I will be,” I said. “Are you?”
She just nodded. We stared at each other for a long moment. Someone laughed, the sound entirely inappropriate as it cut through the somber crowd, and Asinia flinched. We both turned.
Abus’s face was flushed with color as he embraced his family. His mother smiled, while his father slapped him on the back. Now, the family would take their five silver coins—a gift from the king. Tradition dictated that the entire village was invited to the celebration in this square—each villager bringing whatever food they could.
Abus’s father had even managed to barter for a pig, which had been roasting on a spit since the early hours of the morning. The scent of the meat drifted throughout the village, curling into open windows and beneath closed doors.
My stomach clenched uneasily at the thought.
Tibris eyed me and opened his mouth. But Natan was already shoving his way toward us.
“So…that was awful. Who’s staying for the celebration? I need a drink.”
The sun had barely risen, but I was willing to bet half this village would be in their cups by noon after what had just happened.
Tibris watched Natan wander toward the wine. Then he turned back to me. “You should go check on Mama,” he said carefully. “I’ll stay here.”
I knew what he was saying. He didn’t want to stay for the feast. Probably wanted to be alone. But one of us had to stay and pretend to celebrate or our household would draw attention. Truthfully, it was difficult to understand how anyone could sit and eat only foot-spans from where Lina’s grandparents had just died. Both her grandmother and grandfather had been popular in this village, yet their bodies had already been removed, the blood washed away, as if they’d never existed. Soon, most of our neighbors would loudly be giving thanks to the gods that one of the corrupt had been found and taken from our village.
And Tibris wanted to spare me from that. Gratitude swept through me. “You’re right. I’ll see how she’s feeling.”
It was difficult to receive an exemption from the Gifting and Taking ceremonies. My mother only had one because her visions could strike at any time, disturbing the peace.